


A Study in Movement

by two_days



Category: Les Mis Big Bang - Fandom, Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Photography AU, dance au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_days/pseuds/two_days
Summary: Enjolras is a sophomore dance major, the one everyone is terrified of. Head of class, practices before and after rehearsal, somehow has his own key to the studios, you name it. It’s his entire life. His entire life. It’s been a few months and if you dare to ask Enjolras will very plainly tell you ‘no, it doesn’t bother me’ but after his two best friends, dramatic writing major Ferre and acting major Courf start dating and Enjolras starts to become a third wheel...he’s absolutely not jealous. He’s not. He’s alone with his dance, no distractions. It’s perfect. Now if only he could convince himself of that every time he’s dragged to one of the group hang outs and has to see Grantaire. A photography major that seems to like everyone but him. Figures. All the more reason to dissolve his overwhelming crush far into his subconscious and keep on dancing. But when Taire is assigned to Enjolras for a photography project how long can he keep his subconscious buried before it’s time to move on.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	A Study in Movement

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Les Mis Big Bang! 
> 
> Edited by the incredible @anagramofanakin -> find them on tumblr and AO3  
> And ART by the wonderful Marbles -> tumblr @ badass-sunshine & AO3 @ MarbledOpalescence
> 
> OR follow her art blog on tumblr @whatfinemarbles
> 
> ART: https://whatfinemarbles.tumblr.com/post/617306115528704000/id-three-traditional-drawings-the-first-is-two

Once upon a time, long ago, dancing used to feel like _flying_ to Enjolras. Way back at the ripe age of three, when small bright eyed, short haired Enjolras stood in front of the mirror and moved in a way that seemed entirely for him. It felt like flying.

Now, as Enjolras stands at 21 years old, his now long hair tied back in a braid (he’s found that buns give him headaches), much taller than he was, and his eyes no longer had that innocent spark they once held.

_One two three_

_One two three_

_One two three_

The rhythm counts of the waltz dully pulsed through his body like a massage. He closed his eyes, focusing on the temporary reprieve dancing granted him. That the absolute focus he achieved when he knew he had the choreography _perfectly_ was the only thing that relaxed him and, these days, made him smile.

The other dancers in the class, who were also Dance Majors and very talented in their own right, always were a split second behind. They didn’t cut through the air quite as effortlessly. None more so than Courfeyrac who, as an acting major, was unfortunately _very_ out of place in advanced Ballet II. But as the waltz thrummed on, Courf couldn’t help but smile as he saw Enj dance, his slender form hitting each count as though it were automatic.

Thankfully, the music came to an end and the heavy breathes of the dancers crescendo as they hit the final pose. Madam Tulane, a fiercely kind woman with a bun higher than her expectations, stepped forward. “Nicely done dancers...Robert, your footwork improved in that passage, Thomas you’re still off on the counts at the very end and...Enjolras, I want to see _something_ in your face.”

Enjolras nodded, doing his best to not let his cheeks burn in an embarrassed flush. He didn’t really hear the rest of the notes directed to the remainder of the class, too occupied replaying his performance in his head to try and pinpoint the source of disappointment. A strong hand on his shoulder broke him out of that, shaking him (literally) out of his haze.

Courf smiled at him, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder. “Nice class!”

“Thanks, you too.” Enjolras smiled dejectedly. _Nothing going on? Who cares, it was just class, I got every step right I’m sure of it-_

“Enj,” Courf sighed, pushing Enjolras towards the wall that held the classes stuff. “Come on, I’m not gonna let you sulk here all night. We’re going...ooo let’s go out!”

“No,” Enjolras responded immediately, “I have to-“

“No _pe_ you do not have to rehearse. Come on, I’ll text everyone. We can even just all hang at Ferre’s and mine, come _on_ Enj-“

“But-“

“But nothing. Enjy, it’s been like two weeks since your friends saw you, they miss you. The only reason I see you is because I have to take this goddamn class-“

“You’re doing better than I thought you would,” shrugged Enjolras, in an attempt to be consoling.

“Thanks,” accepted Courf in stride. “Anyway, it’s been ages. They miss you... _Grantaire_ misses you.”

Enjorlas looked down, distracting himself with tying his Doc Martins, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him because he _didn’t care_. “So?”

“Shut up. You’re coming with us.” Courf decided with that dangerous tone he only got when he was really set on something. Enjolras sighed, resigning himself to a lost night of practice and pulled his sweatshirt and jacket on.

As they walked out of the studio, they only got to the bottom of the staircase and around the corner before _oh god_ Ferre and _Grantaire_ , of all people, appeared, sitting on a bench.

“Ferre!” Courf exclaimed and sped up, throwing his arms around him, and giving him as enthusiastic of a kiss as Ferre would allow in public. Enjolras walked over as slowly as possible, looking at his phone. Grantaire gazed directly at Enjolras, admiring how good he looked, even in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, or perhaps the technical term was athletic pants or- _whatever_. Taire didn’t care, he only knew that they did fantastic things to Enjolras’ ass. He wasn’t even intentionally raising his camera, but Taire was broken out of his trance when Enjolras quickly asked, “Uh, what are you doing?” Taire suddenly became aware of his surroundings again, and an unamused Enjolras right as the camera went off.

“Oh- sorry I- honestly I didn’t even realize. Saw a beautiful subject and my photographer instincts kicked in,” Taire winked, causing Enjolras to roll his eyes, but Taire saw a smile there, however small.

“I’ve convinced Enjy to actually leave the studio tonight _so_ I’m gonna invite everyone over to our place” Courf announced proudly. “Never thought I could get him to agree to it.”

“I’m not that bad” Enjolras protested half-heartedly, to which Ferre snorted. “You are. But Courf,...tonight we have tickets to...remember? I got them for you for Christmas-“

“Oh _shit!_ Yes, of course- Ferre, I’m so sorry I, yes. Yes, I totally remembered.” Stuttered Courf to Ferre’s unbelieving gaze.

Courf turned to Enj, “Looks like you escaped socialization this time.” He laughed, and Enjolras felt his chest deflate. It’s not that he didn’t love seeing his friends, he was just _busy_ . Like Courf and Ferre always seemed to be now. _It’s fine. Totally fine._

It was not, in fact, fine.

“Cool” was all he said, biting his lip to not let any other, nastier, words escape. Or, god forbid, tears. 

Taire narrowed his eyes, seeing how quickly the blonde had tensed. “I’m still free. If you want to I don’t know, like-“

“What?” Enjolras asked, feeling the blood rush to his ears _definitely not_ because of the thought of being alone with Grantaire.

“If you didn’t want to be alone, we could, like, get dinner or something. If you’re okay hanging out with mortals, o mighty Apollo.” Taire smirked, even more so when he saw how pink the tips of Enj’s ears were.

“I have to rehearse” Enj announced, “thanks though, another time.” He added, and it wasn’t a lie. He _did_ need to rehearse, just not strictly speaking tonight.

“But you didn’t when it was all of us hanging out?” pressed Grantaire, raising an eyebrow.

“Thought I’d make an exception” bit out Enjolras.

“Oh I get it, Enjolras, don’t worry. One mortal alone is not worth your time.” Taire teased, spurred on by how the blonde seethed. 

Ferre stepped forward, “let’s just reschedule-“

“Don’t bother. I have to rehearse” Enjolras snapped, turning away rather dramatically before stopping. “Sorry, uh enjoy your night.” He mumbled awkwardly before walking back to the studio.

 _Stupid. You should be rehearsing more anyway. Maybe if you actually knew the choreography by heart, you wouldn’t have to focus so much and then you could actually express yourself like a normal person. Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Ran through Enjolras head as he stormed back to the studio, his body on autopilot. He reached into his backpack, pulling out the key to the studio that the school ended up giving him after he broke in one too many times, accidentally breaking the door handle. They figured this was easier. And less expensive.

The air-conditioned, sweat stained scent of the studio instantly relaxed Enjolras, taking a deep breath as he methodically took off his sweatpants, Docs, and hat, stuffing them in his locker. He reached to take his sweatshirt off, but kept it on, the air cooler now that there weren’t thirteen other overheated dancers around and the uncomfortable chill that comes after sweating was starting to hit Enjolras.

Staring at his phone, he scrolled through the songs. He _should_ be working on his recital piece for this class. He _really should_ be working on his sophomore showcase, even if it’s not for another three months. Enjolras _should_ be doing a lot of things. But instead he hits Shostakovich’s Jazz Suit No. 2 Vol. VI Waltz 2. Immediately, a grand waltz starts to play, grand but driving, almost haunting in its undertones. The orchestral music flooded the studio and he lept into action.

He did a few light steps of a waltz to get onto the floor, before letting his body do whatever it wants. He felt like he was on a carousel, the music flinging him around and around as he lept, spun, and soared through the studio. All form he worked so hard to maintain secondary as his body drove him, the desire to feel _nothing_ the carrot on a stick.

 _Why are you do stupid. Your friends hate you. Taire hates you. Just be happy for them, you’re too greedy. Too selfish. Too much. Too much. Too-_ the thoughts flew away as he leaped, graceful in form but passionate in intent.

Taire had seen how upset Enjolras looked earlier, and sure the blonde may hate him, but he still didn’t want him to be _alone_ if he was upset. When he saw Enjolras go into the studio, predictably, Taire looped around to the windows. He saw Enjolras keep nothing but his sweatshirt and short dance shorts on and Taire had to close his eyes, willing any unholy thoughts about Enjolras to go away because he just looked _unfairly_ good like that.

When the music started up, Taire subconsciously reached for his camera, snapping a photo of Enjolras when he first closed his eyes, giving himself over to the music. He took a few more before Enjolras’ movements went from graceful, magnetic to something darker. Enjolras was still graceful and captivating, but now he seemed to dance as though he needed to expel something. His movements were twice the tempo of the music, harsher and more sudden than the waltz called for.

Each step the dancer seemed to radiate intensity, siphoning whatever resolve he had left in him, flinging it out as he propelled his body around the studio. _He’s not okay_ , Taire realized, the dance that was magnetically captivating also deeply concerning and he stood up, not knowing what exactly he was doing, only driven by the need to protect Enjolras.

He softly entered the building and the music washed over him now, the driving waltz flooding Taire’s ears as he stepped closer to the studio door. He laid a hand on the door but waited, deciding to give Enjolras his space to finish the song.

Inside the studio, Enjolras was panting, body protesting after a full day of grueling dance, but the push to keep going was invigorating. It was something to focus on. When the piece came to an end, the flute spitting out its last few notes, Enjolras stopped. All the force, the movement seemed to mold back into him as he stood panting, his chest heaving with lack of oxygen and hurt.

After a few moments, he heard the door creep open. Enjolras shot upwards, his normal excuses he made to the janitor ready. If it was Paul, he’d be fine. If it was Janet, he would have to ham up his already poor acting skills.

But it wasn’t Paul or Janet, it was...Grantaire? Oh, he had said that out loud.

“Hey Enj...” Taire began, torn between giving Enjolras a hug or running away.

“What- what are you doing here?” Enjolras asked, defensiveness making his voice sound sharper.

“I...I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Taire answered, seemingly gaining confidence as he took a step forward, into the studio.

“I- what?”

“You seemed really upset-“

“It’s one party, I’ll get over it-“

“Shut up.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t down play this, Enjolras-“

“Sorry, who the fuck are you and why do you think you can just become my therapist?” There was a silence in the studio, Enjolras’ malice dripped voice leaving a sour taste in the air. “I’m sorry” Enjolras whispered, putting his hands in his hair, “I didn’t mean to swear at you I-“ he shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Could you go?” Enjolras pleaded, because he knew he was so close to snapping Taire in half or, even worse, _crying_.

Taire shook his head, stepping closer to Enjolras, hands in his pockets. “You don’t have to, like, talk to me or anything-“

“Then why do-“

“But I’m not gonna leave you alone right now.” Taire said simply, gaining confidence as he saw that Enjolras, charming, wonderful, terrible Enjolras wasn’t fighting him. Or, at least not with the usual fire he and Taire was used to.

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

“What? Better than you?” Taire asked, genuinely not realizing how not PG that sounded until he saw Enjolras’ cheeks flush.

“Yes” Enjolras whispered, turning away to sit against the mirror, slowly starting to stretch. Taire followed, sitting across from Enjolras.

“How did you even get in here?” Enjolras asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“How did _you_?”

“They gave me a key. I uh...snuck in too many times.”

Taire laughed, and Enjolras couldn’t help but feel his chest warm at the crooked smile that lit up Taire’s face. Enjolras wished he could always make Taire smile that way, instead of his sarcastic frown he usually showed Enj. “They didn’t suspend you?”

“Nope.”

“They encouraged you.”

“They didn’t want another broken window.”

“Damn” cackled Taire crossing his arms.

“ _What”_ Enjolras pressed.

“Just that I didn’t know you, oh mighty Apollo, were capable of vandalizing your own building.”

“It’s not vandalizing. It was an _accident_!”

“Street rebel Apollo. Hot.”.... _shit, I said that out loud_.

Enjolras looked down, biting his lip in a way Taire tried really hard not to look at, his cheeks maintaining their flush. “Why are you here, Grantaire?”

“Thought you’d want some company.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Courf and Ferre bailed on you” shrugged Taire. Enjolras started to protest but Taire shook his head, “they did. Not on purpose, sure, but...Enj, it’s okay to be upset.”

The dancer looked down, leaning to his right to stretch, then gracefully gliding to the left leg. Taire sighed, not giving into Enjolras’ oppressive silence. “People miss you....when we hang out, and you’re- damn I- I’m not exactly sure what I’m saying just that- you can leave this studio once in a while, you know that, right?”

Enjolras only shrugged, continuing his stretch and avoidance of Taire’s gaze.

“People would actually like it if you left this studio, me included.” He added, hating the way his heart increased at just that. Enjolras only kept looking down.

“I’m fine,” Enjolras murmured soft enough that he might have been talking to himself more so than Taire. “I’m fine” Enjolras insisted, louder this time. “I just have recitals coming up.”

“So you don’t care that Ferre and Courf-“

“No” Enjolras snapped, why couldn’t Grantaire just _go away_. He looked up, meeting Taire’s gentle gaze with hopefully a steely one. “Please leave.”

“No,” Taire shot back, smirking a little though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t you have something- _anything_ better to do?” Challenged Enjolras, feeling his resolve melting under Taire’s disgustingly caring gaze.

“Why do you assume there’s something better than you, let alone anything?” Taire asked, concern evident in his voice. Enjolras’ eyes widened in surprise at the sincerity. He and the cynic usually spoke in quips and bashes, not sincerity. Enjolras would never have survived this long if they had.

“Ferre and Courf seem to think so” Enjolras mumbled, looking down. He felt Taire scoot closer to him, then felt- _oh god_ , Taire’s hand settle lightly on his own, tightly wound.

“They don't, they're just...in love” Taire laughed with a hint of...spite? Maybe? “They care for you Enj, they just, they-“

“I know” snapped Enjolras, staring at Taire’s hands on his. “You sound...jealous.” Enjolras commented lightly, trying to ease the tension in his own voice.

“Of what they have, sure” Taire admitted easily. “I want someone to look at me the way Ferre looks at Courf.”

“Just...anyone?”

“Someone.”

“Ah...”

Enjolras felt Taire’s hand grip onto his ever so slightly. “Well, well then you should tell them.”

“I just said ‘someone’.”

“I know that-“

“It could be general-“

“Shut up, it’s not-“

“Oh, and how do _you_ know?”

“I don’t” Enjolras replied, painfully earnest. He looked up at Taire, resting his thumb lightly over Taire’s. “I know nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Nothing of the things that matter.” Enjolras replied then bit his lip, worried he had said too much. Part of him wanted to throw himself at Taire there, he was holding his hand after all, but it just- he couldn’t. That would simply be too easy. “I’ve never even dated someone.” He whispered, thumb absentmindedly stroking over Taire’s hand.

“Never?” Taire asked, genuinely surprised.

“No one was interested.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sorry?”

“There is absolutely, _absolutely_ no way no one was interested in you-“

“Oh shut up-“

“And it’s not just because you look like a goddamn model- which you do, by the way-“

“Taire-“

“Or because you’re just so fucking...encapsulating. You’re magnetic. You draw people in, people like me who give fuck all about the world-”

“I know you do-”

“ _See?_ There you go.”

“I’m not... _magnetic-”_

“You are. It’s because you’re amazing, Apollo, and people are interested because you’re fucking magnetic.” Taire exclaimed as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You just haven’t someone _you_ were interested in yet.”

“There’s someone.”

“Anyone?”

“Someone.”

Taire took a deep breath in, trying to starve off his budding heart break. “Well, I bet he’s a great guy, pretty fuckin lucky-“

“Pretty fucking stupid though” Enjolras sighed, unable to stop himself, eyes meeting Taire’s. Taire looked down at their hands, then back up with wide eyes. _Panicked. He looks- fuck, fuck fuck­._ Enjolras shot up suddenly, across the room in an instant, grabbing his sweatpants, boots, and backpack in a frenzied mess murmuring “I have to go” before fleeing from the studio.

Taire stood there, fingers tracing over the hand that held Enjolras’, looking after him in pure confusion, unable to decide whether he had truly fucked up or not.

 _Ping_ . Taire looked over and saw Enjolras’ phone sitting on the speaker. _Fuck_. Well, he’d have to see Enjolras at least one more time.

\-----------------------

_A Study in Movement: each photographer must find another student, from an athlete to a dancer, and showcase the beauty of their movement. One series in their environment, candid. One series in studio where you will showcase the essence of their movement._ Whatever the fuck that meant. Well, actually Taire knew what it meant, he just didn’t like it. Because he wasn’t friends with any athletes, and the only dancer he knew was avoiding him like the plague.

The night before, after Enjolras had fled, Taire went home with Enjolras’ phone and he did _not_ snoop. He couldn’t, first of all because his phone was locked. Did his heart stop when Enj got a text from Courf saying, “did your fav photographer come to check up on you 😉”?

Yes, it did. But he deleted the text off the home screen because _whatwhatwhatwhat_. Eventually, Enj’s phone got a text from Ferre who asked if he could meet Enj the next morning at the dance studio to give him his phone.

So that’s where Taire was now, Enj’s phone in one pocket and an assignment based request that would surely get him beheaded in the other. Enjolras arrived three minutes later, not that Taire was counting. His curly hair up in a loose bun and oh did it make Taire’s fingers’ ache with the need to run his hands through his hair.

“Hey” Enjolras stated, standing a good five feet away from Taire. “You have my-“

“Here” Taire responded quickly, producing his phone and handing it to him. “I, uh charged it and everything.”

“Thanks” Enjolras half smiled in a way that was clearly a dismissal as he turned to go into the studio. 

“Enj, I, uh-“ Taire fumbled, stepping into Enjolras’ path. “I was wondering if you could do me a...favor.”

“What?” Enjolras asked, confusion and hesitation weaved into his voice. Any guards Taire might have gotten Enjolras to lower last night were up now with reinforcements.

“I have this photography assignment and I...I really, _really_ need a fuckin good grade on it. It’s a study in movement. We have to find an athlete of some sort, uh someone whose movement could be captured as art and do two shoots with them.” 

“No” Enjolras’ response was out of his mouth before Taire even finished talking, really before Enjolras had even made up his mind.

“Enj, Enjolras I really really wouldn’t ask if I didn’t _really_ need this grade. I know you hate me or- I don’t know, honestly Enjolras, I have absolutely no idea what you think of me so- so _please_. Just let me photograph you once when you rehearse and then once in the studio. I...I really need this.” He whispered, warm brown eyes boring into Enjolras’. 

The blonde took a breath, mentally signing his own death warrant before nodding. “Okay, okay _fine_ -“

“Thank you! Oh fuck- Enjolras ohmygod thank you, you’re-thank you” Taire beamed, stress evaporating off his chest.

“I thought you’re really good at photography.”

“Uh, I’d like to think I’m pretty okay, yeah?”

“Then why are you failing?”

“Oh- I...last year I...oh you know Enjolras.” Taire rolled his eyes.

“I-no I don’t Grantaire.” Enjolras responded, affronted at Taire’s aggression.

“I was drunk. Like all of freshman year. Which I _know_ you know because you yelled at me enough times-“

“Oh” Enjolras replied softly, looking immediately smaller. “I-you’re right, I did know I’m...I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault-“

“But I didn’t help you, then.”

“It wasn’t your job to-“ 

“I-...I yelled at you because you make me so mad sometimes-“

“Yeah, I got that-“

“Because you’re an idiot, especially last year when- I was worried. Really worried and I’m...not the best at expressing my emotions and I hated that I was worried about you and I hated _how_ worried I was so- I’m sorry.”

Taire took this in, guilt pooling in his stomach at how concerned the blonde looked. Taire took a step forward, placing a hand on Enjolras’ arm without thinking. “It’s okay I-...we’re all working to be better, yeah?”

“Yeah” Enjolras replied, smiling a little. Feeling brave, or maybe just self destructive, Enjolras placed his hand over the one Taire had on his arm. “Are you ready?” 

“...for?” Taire asked, supremely distracted by the feeling of Enjolras’ hand in his.

“I was going to rehearse-“

“It’s Saturday-“

“-so if you want-need to take photos of me...come on.” Enjolras stated with a smooth confidence he certainly did not feel. It was only when he turned to walk into the studio that he let go of Taire’s hand. Taire followed, as he knew he always would, into the dark hallway of the dance studio before the automatic lights came on.

As Enjolras took off his outer wear, he tried his best to not appear panicked in front of Taire. _What am I doing?!_ Honestly, the dancer had done his best to ignore Grantaire’s existence pretty much since he met him. Enjolras could still picture the moment when the photographer walked into his and Ferre’s dorm, appearing behind Courf who introduced him. Enjolras distantly remembered something about sharing a philosophy class but really all he can recall was how _brown_ Taire’s eyes were. Then, of course, they started talking about philosophy and Enjolras and Grantaire fell into their apparently natural dynamic of arguing. After that, Enjolras did his best not to look at those eyes anymore. It wasn’t like he had fallen head over heels...probably. So where were these... _feelings_ coming from? He hadn’t planned on taking Grantaire’s hand last night _or_ tonight. He just had. As a dancer, it was an odd mixture of following impulses and extreme control. But Enjolras had always been a very impulsive person.

_Click_. Enjolras blinked, torn out of his thoughts by the sound of the camera. He turned, looking somewhat distantly to Taire who was looking at him through the camera. “Uh, do you have any specific kind of dance you’d like me to do or...”

“Oh no, whatever you need to work on. I’m just here to...observe. But like in a non creepy way” Taire assured. “Can I help you set up or anything?”

“No, I’m okay thanks” Enjolras replied distantly, hyper aware of how awkward it was, how awkward he had made it. But painfully unaware of how to solve it. Taire nodded, going over to sit against the mirror. Oh the silence. It was truly brutal. The thought of stretching in silence was too uncomfortable to endure, so he shuffled his ‘warm up’ playlist.

 _Mystery of Love_ from goddamn _Call Me By Your Name_ came on because of _course_ it had to. Enjolras immediately went to change it but stopped because _it would look suspicious if he changed it, naming the sexually tense elephant in the room, but then again, he could just pretend that he didn’t want to listen to the song, but it’s probably been too long to change it now so it would look awkward but Taire probably wasn’t even paying attention it’s probably only been 2 seconds even if it’s felt like a million years_ \- Enjolras took a breath, landing in the present and realizing his finger hovering over his phone. He dropped the phone, probably too suddenly given the situation, and let Sufjan Steven’s voice fill the studio. He took a deep breath, beginning his stretching routine doing his best to acclimatise to Grantaire’s presence.

“Do you mind if I take photos?” Taire asked, raising his camera.

“Isn’t that kinda the whole point of this?” Enjolras challenged, smirking slightly.

“Just being courteous” Taire laughed, standing up, and raising his camera to his eye as Enjolras began his warm up routine. Seeing Enjolras, with his beautiful blonde hair in a braid resting on his back, moving with him as he stretched. The fluidity and ease of the movement, the way gravity seemed to slide off of him. It was truly captivating.

Eventually, the song ended and Enjolras stood up, considerably calmer now that he had woken up his body and switched it to Tchaikovsky’s _Swan Lake_ , specifically Odette’s entrance in act 2. He hit play, got into position, took a breath...and began.

The music swelled, and Taire almost gasped at the man who stood in front of him. Enjolras seemed immediately transformed, not into another person, just into a more realized version of himself. The blonde swirled, twisted, glided and leapt across the floor. Taire watched the pure muscle in Enjolras’ thin frame propel him, making these insanely complex twirls seem easier than walking. _Beautiful_ Taire could only think. _So beautiful._

The music played, but Taire had developed his own rhythm, the whirl of Enjolras’ carefully graceful ballet partnered with the snap of the camera. It was like Taire was caught in a river, having no choice but to swim. Surrounded by beauty.

Enjolras danced and danced, going through counts and preparations in his head. At one point, admittedly his favorite part of the dance, he was able to turn his brain off, letting his instinct guide him. Taire made sure to capture the little smile that appeared on his lips.

Too soon, _way_ too soon, the music stopped. Enjolras stilled in the final pose, his delicate hands reaching out, body appearing to be infinitely propelled forward while also being pulled back.

“Wow,” Taire whispered before he could stop himself. Enjolras felt his cheeks flame, coming out of his final pose.

“Really?” Enjolras asked, looking like he didn’t believe Taire.

“Um _yeah,_ Enj it was... that was...you’re incredible. What’s that piece for?”

“My sophomore recital.” 

“Isn’t that at the end of the year?”

“Yeah. Gives me time to clean it up” Enjolras explained, walking over to get some water.

“Clean it- do you think it needs cleaning up?” Taire asked, incredulously.

“Yeah, so does every one of my teachers. ‘Wow’ is the kindest thing anyone’s said to me in weeks.”

“ _Kind?_ ”

“Yeah. Kind.” Enjolras laughed darkly, crossing to Taire. “Can I see some?”

“Oh- yeah, sure.” Taire complied, going through some of the photos. As he clicked through, he carefully watched the blonde’s face, terrified of his reaction. Enjolras’ face was scrunched in concentration then...anger?

“I look like I’m dead.” Enjolras sighed, groaning as he walked away, head in his hands. “ _Fuck!”_

“That was- who told you you look dead?” Taire asked, watching the blonde grip his own head in frustration.Enjolras turned away, taking deep breaths as his worst fears were confirmed.“ Taire asked softly, fighting the urge to go to Enjolras and hug him.

“I used to feel like I was flying” Enjolras whispered, his voice sounding small, getting lost in the large studio. “When I started I- I used to feel...like I could fly.” He turned to properly face Taire now, his usually pale face devoid of color, a creeping anxiety taking over his features. “And I...-..”

“Do you not like dancing anymore?” Taire prompted softly, taking a step towards Enjolras.

“I do” Enjolras replied immediately, “I just...I think...I think I’ve spent too much time trying to get it right. Since getting to college, maybe before, probably before, it was about the performance. About the technicalities and I- I know they’re important. The ‘business’ side of dance, the capitalism side. But Taire- I...are you okay if I call you that?”

“Taire? It’s my name, yeah.”

“But- I just wanted to check.”

“I call you Enj all the time. Why wouldn’t you be able to call me Taire?”

“I don’t know I...I didn’t know if we were close enough for that. I mean, friends.”

“You don’t think we’re friends?”

“I don’t know” Enj whispered, large blue eyes looking into Taire’s who was now standing directly in front of him.

“Do you want us to be?”

“I’d like us to be closer, yeah” he whispered, taking a small step forward fully into Taire’s space. He wasn’t thinking. Enjolras spent all his days, and many of his nights, thinking things over and over and _over_. Right now he wasn’t thinking at all. He couldn’t, all he could do is follow his body’s impulse. Taire didn’t step back, instead kept eye contact with Enj, smiling softly.

“Why did it change?”

“What?”

“Dancing. Why don’t you enjoy it?”

“Stopped following my impulses.”

“What are your impulses telling you to do right now?” Taire asked gently, his eyes flickering to Enjolras’ lips and back, ao quickly Enjolras swore he imagined it but he knew he didn’t.

“To do what I want. Finally” Enjolras whispered back, his line of vision all focused in on _Taire_. Who stood so close he could see the faint freckles on his nose, the slight parting of his lips.

“And what’s that?” Taire prompted, his breath caught in his chest where his heart was beating rapidly against his rib cage. Almost like it might take flight.

Enjolras gently ran his fingers down Taire's arm, before landing on his hand, where he guided it to his own waist, where Taire felt his calloused artist hands connect with Enjolras’ skin, sending vibrations through his skin. Enjolras took Taire’s other hand and held it out with his own to the side, placing Enjolras’ other hand on Taire’s shoulder. A waltz position more or less.

Taire didn’t dare breathe, too distracted by the magnetism of Enjolras’ skin and the clarity in his eyes. Enjolras stepped backwards, pulling Taire with him. Distantly, Taire marveled at how Enjolras could waltz in pointe shoes, while he was struggling with his simple converse. Next Enjolras stepped to the side, Taire followed. Finally, Enjolras took a step forward, guiding Taire back and squeezing the hand he held.

“Ready?” Enjolras whispered, a delicate smile lighting up his face. Taire nodded once, returning the smile. He didn’t know what he was ready for, but god was he ready. Enjolras squeezed Taire’s hand one more time, the hand he had on Taire’s shoulder tapping out a 3 count before suddenly they were off.

_One two three_

_One two three_

_One two three_

It was clumsy. Taire, though in the position of leader, was undoubtedly being led by Enjolras as they waltzed through the room. But none of that mattered. Because Enjolras was _smiling_. Around and around they danced, to no rhythm, their chests pressed together. Enjolras closed his eyes, letting his body respond to Taire’s, to the imaginary rhythm that they could only hear. That drove them around the studio, in each other’s arms.

Taire, grinning like an idiot, tightened his grip on Enjolras’ waist, pulling him in for a moment, before twirling him out. Enjolras laughed, a beautiful sound, as he let himself be spun, going up on point at the end and twirling beautifully in. Like flying.

“Show off” Taire teased, pulling Enjolras back in. He placed his hand on Enjolras’ waist again, keeping him close. The other came up gently to Enjolras’ face, brushing his thumb over Enjolras’ cheek. Enjolras stayed very still, taking Taire in with those beautifully blue, curious eyes. Slowly, Taire moved his hand back to where it was holding Enjolras’ face. He leaned down, closing the slight height difference between them.

Enjolras bit his lip, breathing in in surprise. He placed his own hands lightly on Taire’s waist. When Taire leaned down, Enjolras went up on point, looking directly into Taire’s smiling, warm eyes. Taire shifted, leaning forward and Enjolras felt the breath catch in his chest, convinced that Taire was going to kiss him.

Instead, he felt a gentle tug at the end of his braid, his hair falling down to his shoulders. “Enjolras...” Taire whispered, unable to stop himself from reacting to how captivating he looked. He was able to resist anything except temptation, so Taire couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through Enjolras’ curls, so enthralled with how it felt he almost missed the shiver that passed through Enjolras.

Enjolras tightened his hold on Taire’s waist, knowing his face was blushing horribly in Taire’s hands right now, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “This is what I want” Enjolras whispered, finally, leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

Taire responded immediately, fingers gripping Enjolras’ hair as he kissed back. He was struck by how natural this felt. How kissing Enjolras was simultaneously the most extraordinary and fantastically normal thing in the world. Again, they quickly found their rhythm, moving against each other. They pulled back only when air became more necessary than the other.

“That’s what I want, too” Taire whispered, eyes roaming over Enjolras’ face, looking a lot more relaxed, even content now. He smiled, adoring the way the dancer smiled back at him.

Enjolras dropped down off point and Taire took his chance to guide Enjolras’ face up to his, capturing his mouth again in a kiss. And then another. And another. Enough to make Enjolras feel like he was flying, or maybe floating. He was also distantly aware that he was falling. Rapidly, rapidly falling for Taire. But with Taire’s hands resting securely on his waist and in his hair, with Taire’s lips dancing against his own. Enjolras found he didn’t mind. Not at all.


End file.
